


Where is home? (On the stars on the tip of your tongue)

by entertheinferno



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, In case you were wondering, M/M, Van Days, author is incredible at tagging, i guess, joe&pete bromance of the epic variety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:20:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entertheinferno/pseuds/entertheinferno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s just another show and they should be back on the road because they have to play another one tomorrow night and it’s not even close to Chicago and they don’t have time to crash and they should be driving right now except Joe is missing, gone since they stepped off stage, and Andy is kind of freaking out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where is home? (On the stars on the tip of your tongue)

**Author's Note:**

> Author's first work in the fandom. Written for Bast who asked for van days trohley and then forgot about it because I took so long.  
> Comments are love please be kind.  
> Title snatched from an e.e. cummings poem.

Hardcore shows aren’t a new thing for any of them.

 

Well, for Patrick, sort of, because it’s different when you’re standing on stage screaming the lyrics out to the crowd than when you’re in the crowd screaming them back, but it’s not like this is the first show Patrick has played.  It’s not like it’s a surprise when people start moshing, it’s not a big deal when some bigger dudes who are definitely, mind-numbingly high start getting a little violent.

 

And ok, so maybe it’s a little bit worrying when some girl pulls Joe off the stage near the end of their set and he doesn’t claw his way to the surface and back onto the stage until the end of the song.

 

Maybe Andy misses a beat because Joe’s got a split lip and maybe Pete looks about ready to kill someone when he sees the bruise blossoming under Joe’s eye.

 

That doesn’t mean anyone should worried when they finish, other than making sure Joe’s not concussed or something, because, whatever, it’s just another show.  Things got a little more violent than usual but it’s just another show.

 

It’s just another show and they should be back on the road because they have to play another one tomorrow night and it’s not even close to Chicago and they don’t have time to crash and they should be driving right now except Joe is missing, gone since they stepped off stage, and Andy is kind of freaking out.

 

Pete is also kind of freaking out, which is why he’s currently nowhere to be found and hopefully not getting the crap kicked out of him by a couple of really high dudes who definitely fucked up their guitar player.

 

Patrick is the calmest out of all of them, which he shouldn’t be.  He definitely should be allowed to be freaking out because he’s still in fucking high school and for all Andy knows he probably saw whatever happened to Joe when he got pulled off stage and, fuck, _Joe_ is still in high school and they’re walking around a seedy bar and Pete is coming towards them and he’s got blood on his face and Andy is visibly freaking because there’s no sign of Joe anywhere.

 

“Gonna fuckin’ kill them.” Pete slurs and there’s blood oozing out of his nose and Andy thinks there’s a 50/50 chance that it’s broken.  “‘M gonna fuckin’ kill them.  Where the fuck is Joe.”

 

Usually Andy is not for advocating violence.  He let’s Patrick clean Pete up when he gets into fights, watches and wonders if they’re gonna pull their shit together anytime soon, and when that’s said and done he reminds Pete that violence is not the answer and yes, he’s sure those guys definitely deserved to get kicked in the balls but clearly it needed to be done by someone a lot taller and more capable of actually kicking the shit out of someone than Pete.  Except Pete keeps struggling against Patrick’s placating hands and every time Andy closes his eyes to try and calm his erratic heartbeat he sees Joe’s face, bruised and bloodied, and his hands curl into fists and it’s not as hard to get the appeal of kicking someone’s face in.

 

Patrick looks a little lost, just holding Pete still and trying to stop him from flying off the handle, and his eyes are panicked and he keeps looking between Andy and the crowd like he thinks in the millisecond it takes for him to blink Joe is going to appear and fix this shitfest.  Which Andy gets, because he comes in after everything’s settled down to tease Pete and perform damage control and remind him that being an actual human being is better than turning into some kind of weird sweatshirt monster, and Patrick is the first responder, he makes sure there aren’t any injuries more serious than a wounded pride, but Joe is always the one who actually gets Pete to calm the fuck down when he pulls shit like this.   He’s the one who curls up in the backseat of the van with Pete and just lets him be and that’s usually what he needs.

 

Because Pete loves Patrick, everyone gets that even when Pete and Patrick don’t, but Joe is Pete’s best friend.  Joe is Pete’s best friend and they fight and they make up and sometimes they throw punches but they’re fucking _best friends_ and it’s like, people forget that Pete’s got feelings that extend beyond himself and the band.  Which makes almost zero sense really, because it’s abundantly clear to anyone who meets Pete that he has way more feelings than he knows how to handle.

 

The point is Pete’s got that manic look in his eyes like the only way to fix things is to punch a wall or piss off one more person and it’s because Joe is missing and Andy gets that.  Andy really, really gets that because Joe is a pretty important dude, like, the whopping big kind of important, and it’s not just because he’s a really fucking awesome guitarist.  

 

“Patrick.”  Andy reaches out, places a hand on Patrick’s shoulder, keeps his eyes on Pete.  Tries to figure out where the line between platonic concern and anything beyond that is and how far over that line he’s currently hovering.

 

“Patrick, you guys look in here, I’m gonna go make sure he didn’t run off.”

 

He’s surprised that his voice manages to be as steady as it is, even though he can feel his heart thundering in his chest still, reminding him with every beat that Joe’s not where he should be, and his hands are quivering in ways they definitely shouldn’t.  Patrick just nods and Pete looks less than satisfied but he shoots Andy a look as Patrick pulls him away that says something along the lines of “if it can’t be me at least it’s you.”

 

It’s fucking cold outside when Andy slips out the stage doors into the back parking lot and he seriously regrets not getting like, a sweatshirt at least.  

 

This is the last time they ever tour when Patrick and Joe are on Winter Break.  It’s too fucking cold for this shit and Andy’s hair is in his eyes and it’s all kind of terrible.

 

Or, it would be if there wasn’t a familiar face sitting on the concrete with his back against their shitty van, smoking a cigarette.  Andy would probably be more concerned with the fact that he swears to god he checked out here before hand except that he found Joe.

 

He found Joe, who looks battered and angry but very much here again and Andy can feel heavy tension leaving his chest and thank god.

 

Joe doesn’t look up when Andy goes to sit beside him, keeps studying the his fingertips like they’ve got some really pressing secret inside that he needs to decode.  He’s smoked the cigarette down to the filter and there’s still blood on his face and the bruise on his cheek is dark and purple, half covered by his hair.

 

And he wants to reach out and touch, and maybe any other time, all the other times, he would’ve held himself back but he doesn’t this time and he leans over, fingers skimming broken skin, quiet and insistent.

 

“Where’d you go, Pete’s freaking out.”

 

“Wanted cigarettes, went to the shitty corner store.”

 

It’s a far too casual exchange for the intimacy of their positions; Andy is practically in Joe’s lap, hands cupping his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones.  Every time he exhales Andy can feel it brush against his face.

 

It makes sense really, to just lean forward and press their lips together, and it’s been the inevitable next step for them for a while now, and maybe this is different than what it could’ve been, but Andy’s pretty sure neither of them have a problem with that.  Joe tastes like cigarette smoke and blood and he wraps his arms around Andy, pulls him closer licks into his mouth like he didn’t disappear for more than an hour and Andy tries to frown but it’s really hard to because he’s kissing Joe and it’s a much nicer direction to the one the evening was taking beforehand.

 

“We were fucking worried you asshole.” He mumbles, and Joe kind of grimaces against his mouth and at least he has the decency to be sorry.

 

“I just needed air.”

 

“You could’ve told me.”

 

“I will next time.” He nudges his nose against Andy’s, kisses the corner of his mouth and Andy would be kind of pissed about the unapologetic grin that’s spreading across Joe’s face but if next time means more making out in parking lots it’s really not that much of a problem.

 

Making out with Joe is definitely going on the list of top ten things to do.

“Shouldn’t we go find Pete and Patrick?  Pete was freaking out.”  He’s pretty sure he sounds convincing.

 

Joe just shrugs and then Andy has a mouth pressed against his again and his train of thought goes AWOL.

 

Pete and Patrick will be fine without them for a while.  This is definitely most important and deserves all their attention until further notice.  

  
If Joe disappearing always results in this Andy thinks he can deal with the heart palpitations and anxiety.  This is definitely worth it.


End file.
